Love Languages
by Nina-Irene
Summary: Husbands Mathias and Lukas speak different love languages. This creates conflict and a need to find a suitable 'lingua franca.' (Dennor, rating for language mainly.)


A/N: I've been so into love languages lately. If you're interested in reading up on them to figure out what the hell I'm even talking about here, check out this website-

5lovelanguages . com

Maybe comment with yours and what you think of all this in general? :D Either way thanks for reading!

* * *

Lukas' blood went cold and he softly put his fork and knife down beside his plate. "The third weekend in September? You mean likeSeptember 20?"

"Yeah" Mathias spoke around the food in his mouth from across their dining room table. "Is something wrong?"

His words were a punch to Lukas' heart and he decided he was finished eating. "Never mind. It doesn't matter then. Go have fun with your friends in Paris." He dropped his plate in their sink rather harshly and turned to walk past his husband - who had paused in the motion of cutting off a bite of steak, staring at Lukas - to retreat upstairs. "I'll come back to do the dishes later."

"Babe hold on a second!" Lukas cringed at the other's 'affectionate' name for him. "What's September 20? Come on, no secrets now!"

Lukas' response was directed at the hardwood floor. "It's not meant to be a secret! In fact you SHOULD be very well aware!"

Mathias thought hard for a few moments and after a while Lukas practically heard realization hit his head. He spoke softly, his words laced with guilt. "Our... anniversary..." Lukas began to resume his march upstairs and Mathias stood to follow him. "Wait... please... babe I'm sorry I... why don't we just celebrate when I get back? It'd be the same thing on the 24th as it would on the 20th, right?"

"No! It..." Lukas turned to face him. "It's not that! It's just... this isn't the first time you've done this! You just get up and go places with your friends and leave me behind!" Lukas could feel his face turning a deep red so he shifted his gaze to the floor and tried to focus on remaining calm. "You weren't even home for New Year's this year! At midnight I had no one to -" he found himself unable to continue.

"Hey! If I remember correctly I tried calling you at midnight but had to leave a message because you ignored my call!"

"So? It wouldn't have made a difference anyway, you were too wasted for your message to make any sense."

"Well then allow me to repeat it." Mathias cleared his throat. "I said I love you" he stepped closer to his husband and tried to take him into his arms. "I love you, I love you, I love you -"

Lukas pushed him away, growing more and more impatient. "Stop with that!"

"With what!?" Mathias snapped, now frustrated as well.

"With your obnoxious doting! You know I hate it."

"So you get mad that I'll be away for one fucking weekend next month but you won't let me tell you how much I love you? What's up with that!?"

Lukas had given up on remaining calm and was now almost yelling. "Who gives a fuck about what you say if you're not actually going to be there for me!?"

"Because as long as you know how much I care who gives a fuck where I am!? I thought we were stronger than that!"

Lukas didn't know how to respond to the other's utilization of mirrored sentence structure as a form of reverse psychology, so he let out an angry huff, continued his march to their room, and entered, slamming their door violently behind him.

Feeling defeated and simply awful, Mathias turned back to the kitchen in silence and began to do the dishes.

X

"Nah man she's too tall for me" stated the already tipsy Antonio Carriedo to his friend Mathias.

"True, you do have a thing for the 'little girl' type, don't you?"

"No! I just like my women... compact. That's all."

"Mhm, and your men?"

"Men? Who said anything about me and men!?"

The four at the table broke into wild laughter at what was obviously a joke to them. Mathias was enjoying a fall evening in Paris with his three best friends at one of the craziest bars in the 8th arrondissement.

"And you Francis? Do you have any 'preferences' like that?"

"Love is for the soul, not the body, mon ami. The only preference I have is a willing heart."

Mathias rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. And Gilbert?"

"I don't know about 'types' or shit like that, but my preference right now is the Hungarian with the beer!" He turned to call out "Liza, babe, another round here!"

Their brunette waitress came over carrying a tray of beers and began placing them on the table. When she got to Gilbert she paused, bent down to his eye level, smiled as wide as sweetly as possible and whispered "call me babe one more time and the next round you get will be a roundhouse kick to the face." She bounced away and left a wide-eyed Gilbert shaking.

"Yeah, looks like true love, man." Antonio jabbed, and his friends laughed at the obviously both-terrified-and-aroused Gilbert. The Spaniard then turned to face Mathias. "I'd ask what your preference is but we all know the answer is passive aggressive, kinky Norwegians!"

Mathias chuckled. "You're just jealous I've been getting 6 years non-stop of that ass."

"It's been 6 years already!?" exclaimed Francis.

"Yep. 6 as of today, actually." The whole table went quiet. "What?" Mathias whined.

"You mean today is your anniversary? And you're in Paris with us instead of Oslo with him?" Asked Antonio, sounding legitimately concerned.

"Yeah, I mean I had to celebrate Francis' new fantastic art exhibit with you all! This couldn't be postponed, and besides, Lukas and are celebrating when I get back."

"Is he okay with that?"

"Well, he said he was, but I'm not so convinced" Mathias admitted, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and guilty, and wishing the topic would shift soon. "I just wish he would say how he felt more often, you know? He leaves so much unsaid, I can never tell what will make him mad until it's too late. But how am I supposed to know what he wants if he never tells me? I don't know, man. I love him, I do know that."

A short awkward silence fell over the three single men before Francis spoke again.

"I once dated a man who did not care much for anniversaries. He thought sentimentality was pointless. But he adored my cooking, and so that is how I expressed my love to him. A few years later I was with a woman who did not want to be apart for a single second on our anniversary. To her it was a very important day to reflect on our love and on why we were together in the first place." He paused to take a sip of his beer. "What I am saying, mon ami, is that it all depends on your love language."

"Pffftt- love language!?" Gilbert found it amusing.

"You laugh but it is important!" Francis continued. "One's love language is how they communicate their affection. There are five main ones I think. Physical touch, words of assurance - ahh I cannot recall them all right now, but you get the idea. It is very difficult when one speaks a different one than their partner, these are the hardest languages to learn, after all. But it is important to try. Google it or something" he finished.

"That sounds wise and all" Gilbert busted in before silence could settle over them again "but I don't think I'd be taking 'love' advice from you until you can find a man with eyebrows thinner than 5 metres!"

"Or one what doesn't practically snort maple syrup" Antonio chimed in. "Who was that kid anyway?"

"Hey no making fun of my sweet Mattieu! He may have been timid but he could do things that would make even a Spaniard blush!"

"Gahhh I'm gonna need a third round" Mathias groaned. "Miss Elizabeta!"

X

This was so embarrassing. It was midnight on a Friday night and Mathias was up Google searching love languages while his 'still pretty upset' husband was asleep in the next room over.

It hadn't taken him long to determine that, without a doubt, his was words of affirmation. That was why he felt the need to tell Lukas how much he meant to him all the time, and why his heart soared to heaven whenever the Norwegian offered a rare-but-precious compliment. It also did not take him long to realize that 'words' were definitely NOT Lukas' love language.

What was it then? Lukas couldn't stand when people spent money on him and tried avoid as many unwarranted 'acts of service' as he could. Mathias thought back on their arguments. About what had hurt his husband the most, and about what usually helped to bring about a resolution. Based on Lukas' fear of loneliness and his irritation when their conversations lacked Mathias' full attention, Mathias reached his conclusion.

X

The next morning Mathias awoke to the warm aroma of cinnamon and made his way into the kitchen where Lukas was making their usual extravagant Saturday breakfast. Upon entering he walked up behind the Norwegian who was standing over the stove and wrapped his arms around his waist.

"Morning" he mumbled to Lukas, still waking himself up.

"I can't work with you clinging on to me like that."

"Yeah, yeah" Mathias stepped back and placed his hands on his hips, his eyes still fixed on Lukas. "Look, I think we should talk."

"You talk too much." Lukas mumbled lightheartedly.

"Yeah because that's my love language! Talk and compliments!" he explained, now very into the concept. He swore he heard Lukas snort at it, however.

"What are you going on about this time?"

"No no hear me out - see a love language is how you communicate that you love someone. I think we speak different ones and... that's why we keep having... problems." his tone dipped into serious sincerity at the end and that convinced Lukas to turn towards him.

"I see. So what's my language then?"

"Well, correct me if you disagree, but I think yours it 'quality time.'"

"Sounds sensible."

"Yeah okay so here's what we do. We try to speak each other's as best as we can, as well as finding one that suits us both equally. How's that sound?" Lukas' face stayed still and unexpressive as he thought for a few moments. Then he walked towards Mathias until he was inches away, avoiding the Dane's gaze by shifting his own down. He spoke softly and anxiously.

"Does this mean you'll be home for me more often?"

"Yes" Mathias reassured. With no more to say Lukas wrapped his arms around the other and buried his face in his husband's chest. Mathias grinned and held on to the other. He had been so blind to not realize how much his presence - his simple presence and nothing more - meant to the man he loved. It baffled him how he could possibly use just his undivided attention to express everything he felt about Lukas, but he would try. He ran his fingers through the smaller blonde's hair as an attempt to tell him 'I'm here, I'm here."

"And uhh..." he heard Lukas speak up "I... really love you... you know and uhh... your hair is pretty cool and all I guess." Mathias could actually feel the other's cheeks burning red against his chest and let out a perhaps obnoxious laugh.

"See? That's not so hard is it?" He exclaimed, and decided to push the Norwegian's fluster a little further. "You know what's another love language? Physical touch..."


End file.
